An Old Problem – Chapter Eight
“C’mon sweetheart breakfast is being served in the garden… and it’s such a beautiful morning I don’t want to miss any of it.”
Mum had just nudged me awake and I was barely conscious as she raved on about what we might do for the rest of the day. She seemed pretty immersed in a “Things to do…” brochure.
“Yeah, yeah OK, erm, what’s this?”
I’d reached under the blanket and detected that my padding was thicker than usual… it was also wet as usual but…
“Oh yes, well sweetie, last night you did a bit of sleep-walking and spent some time at the window,” she nodded towards it so I knew exactly which window she meant. “You were watching a storm on the horizon but you’d saturated your nappy so I had to put you in a fresh one.”
“Really, I mean, I don’t remember getting up… or you changing me…”
“No love, I think you were in some sort of trance but… you were very, very wet so I changed you.” She smiled her winning smile. “So sharing a room wasn’t such a bad idea… hmmm? C’mon, get up and let’s make a start on the day.”
I pulled back the cover and revealed my bulky plastic pants.
“So, I seem to have wet twice last night…” I shrugged patting the large squishy cushion I was wearing.
“Twice, maybe more…” she shook her head as if there was more to it but she didn’t want to say, “those were just as a precaution but look like they paid off.”
The thickness spread my legs a bit and although this was nothing new, I did feel like a toddler as I tried to rise from my bed.
“Did the storm wake you as well?” I asked hoping she wouldn’t notice I was struggling a bit.
“Actually, I don’t think the storm came anywhere near us…” she looked out the window, “I can’t see any puddles or any evidence that it rained last night so, it might have only been out at sea.”
As she searched for any tell-tale signs I managed to wriggle myself out of bed and stood in wonder at the huge glassy pants surrounding my wet nappy.
“I wonder why… it doesn’t make any sense if it didn’t wake me up… I mean…” I didn’t remember anything about last night and now I felt completely detached from what went on.
“That’s why you’re in nappies…” she smiled in encouragement, “They’re there to protect you from a wet bed. Thankfully, they do what they’re supposed to do and you seem none-the-worse for it. So, sleepy head… c’mon, let’s get you changed and see what delicacies they have for breakfast.”
Her eighteen year-old son, wearing a huge swollen nappy didn’t seem to faze her at all as she urged me to get a move on.
#
I did my toilet, had a quick shower and was back ready for mum to do her thing and wrap me up for the day.
“Do you think you can handle two?” She was rummaging around in the pack of disposables.
“I don’t think I could get my shorts over two so let’s not push it. I should be alright with what I normally wear.”
She inspected me thoroughly for any redness or rashes before rubbing in cream and taping me in.
“I really like these Abenas… they don’t half give me a soft reassuring hug.” I enthused.
“Good, but don’t get used to them, they’re expensive and… only for special occasions when we can’t do such personal laundry. It will be back to fabric when we get home.”
“In that case, I better make full use of them,” I teased.
I slipped into my green shorts and a pale blue crew-necked t-shirt “Ready.”
“Have you got everything you’ll need for the day?” She said as she held out my small backpack that I knew held a couple of disposables and various other bits and bobs should the weather turn.
“I have now thanks. I’m starved.” I kissed mum on the cheek and we set off to find a nice place to have breakfast in the garden.
Mum went to discuss something with reception; I suppose it was about entry to some of the places we were planning on visiting, whilst I found a corner table for two. I hadn’t realised just how thirsty I was so before mum arrived back I’d sunk two large glasses of orange juice.
(I wonder if this is why I keep getting a tang of orange in my mouth… the amount of OJ I drink?)
Although mum settled for a bowl of mixed fruit followed by croissants and a pot of tea for breakfast I was hungry and decided on scrambled egg, toast and bacon. They were very generous with the rashers and I ate the lot then needed another large glass of orange to help it all down.
We chatted about mum’s plans, she wanted to visit two nearby sites which for some reason, when we came before, she never got round to seeing. She also asked if I wanted to go back to the beach and I said that if the sun was still shining when we’d done her tour I wouldn’t mind a little lie out.
“OK then, that’s what we’ll do.” She shoved the last piece of buttered croissant in her mouth with an air of comic finality, whilst I sank the last of the juice.
I thought it was a great start to the day.
#
Before we left mum was making reservations, well, asking the receptionist, to make reservations, at a restaurant we’d been recommended when chatting to people the previous day. Meanwhile, as I stood around with my backpack perched strategically on my shoulders I noticed a girl I thought I recognised waiting. She had sunglasses on, so I wasn’t too sure but I made myself known anyway.
“Hi, Trinny isn’t it?” I smiled what I hoped was a winning rather than predatory smile.
“Who’s asking.” She was very offhand but at least she was talking.
“It’s me, Anthony, Anthony Turner from…”
“Ah, from school, Year 5… Mrs Anghar’s class?”
“Year 11 actually.” Yes it was definitely her. She was always putting me down because of my size and it looked like things hadn’t changed.
The thing was, now I’d made contact I remembered I didn’t like her much and she didn’t like me but… we’re grown-ups now so hopefully…
“You still in class?” She was off hand but at least making small talk.
“No, I work. I’m a computer analyst.” I have no idea why I said that because although I work with computers that’s not my job description.
“Oh,” her interest perked up.
“Yes, recruited when I was sixteen,” God what was I saying? I’m trying to impress a girl I never got on with… what’s wrong with me?
“So, here having a dirty weekend like…” She didn’t finish saying as mum walked over.
“Oh my god you’re dating an oldie?”
“No, no, no… I’m…” I was lost for words but in some way I just didn’t want to correct her. Part of me was hoping this would get back to all my old school mates… and even those who weren’t my mates.
“C’mon sweetie momma needs her fix.”
“Yes, fine OK, erm I’m needed so… by Trinny, hope you have a great day.”
It all happened so quickly and I just hope she didn’t detect the slight rustle of my plastic pants or notice the bulge in my shorts… and if she did, put it down to something sexual.
I couldn’t wait to tell mum what had just happened but then wondered if she would be pleased at being called an oldie. Perhaps better to remain quiet on the subject. However, as we set off I had a huge self-satisfied smile on my face.
And I thought the day had already started well.
#
When we got to the car I noticed mum also had a huge grin on her face.
“Well that was fun.”
“Erm, what was?” I asked innocently.
She looked at me as if I wasn’t fooling anyone.
“You were trying to impress that girl.”
“But, but…”
“I overheard everything darling… she now thinks you are dating an older, sophisticated lady… you wish.”
I sort of smiled and grimaced at the same time because I’d been found out.
“Was she a friend?”
“No, I recognised her from school but she didn’t like me – not trendy or tough enough I guess.”
“And yet you still….”
“Yes I know, I know stupid…” I sighed, “she always treated me as a nobody.”
“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart… you’re trendy and tough enough for momma.” And she burst into gales of laughter, which made me feel better. “Now then, the castle first, I think it opens in about ten minutes and it’ll take us about twenty to get there.”
We jumped in the car and I felt the thick, soft padding hugging me as I settled into the seat. This really was a brilliant way to start the day.
#
The castle on a sunny day was proving popular so mum said we’d only take a quick look around after all. Despite the blurb in the “Things to do…” section it didn’t have a lot to see or do once you got there. So after a few posed photographs, I clambered up a reinforced battlement and had to admit that the view was quite spectacular.
There was another soft click so knew mum was getting a few more images to show to dad and Jenny.
On the way to the castle mum had told me about the siege that had taken place during the War of the Roses and I tried my best to visualize the battle. I closed my eyes and wondered what a battle would sound like; unfortunately my imagination just wasn’t up to it. However, a couple of young girls were screaming as they jumped from one battlement to another and that seemed to create a similar chaotic atmosphere.
As their excited screams and laughter continued I stood looking out feeling the strong cooling breeze wafting around my unexpectedly trembling legs. It was at that moment I felt my bladder give way and the amount of orange juice I’d gulped down at breakfast make a hasty exit into my disposable. I’d had no warning, although perhaps should have expected it, but, like back in the office, I couldn’t stop the flow. The stream seemed to take an awful long time and was worried that the M4 just wouldn’t cope with the amount but trusted the plastic pants would do their job.
Mum was waiting as I tentatively climbed down from my prominent position and looked questioningly at me. There was another soft click she caught the moment of my al fresco embarrassment. She knew what she’d just taken a shot of and smiled knowingly as I drew near.
“I guess it’s time to find somewhere to change you.”
I nodded because the soaked disposable had expanded quite significantly so my shorts looked like I’d been storing an inflatable cushion around my groin. I tried to walk as normal but could tell I had a bit of a waddle, which felt strange but not too uncomfortable.
Mum found a disabled toilet and we popped in. Without much ceremony I undid my shorts, slid the plastic pants down and mum got to work yanking the sodden piece of material off. It seemed massive.
My backpack had all the items needed to make me clean and fresh for the rest of the trip and mum wasted no time giving me a quick wipe and then taping me in. The entire process only took a couple of minutes but when we let ourselves out who should be the first person I saw, Trinny.
She looked shocked as she saw us both emerge and I hoped she thought we were having a quickie. Alas, as I was still hitching up my pants, she might well have heard me thanking mum for the change but she hadn’t quite put the disposable away and saw her stuffing things into my backpack. A huge smile spread across Trinny’s face.
“Still wetting your pants… you always were a little kid… thankfully your mummy’s there to change you.”
She laughed and then walked over to a lad who looked like he should be playing rugby for Leeds Rhinos. Any comment or clever response went unsaid and all I could think about was – a guy my age wearing a nappy was good gossip for someone like Trinny.
Unfortunately, my fantasy of being seen as some kind of sexual stud had lasted less than two hours.
However, despite the total embarrassment, I was wearing a nice new dry Abena… so it wasn’t all bad.
“Sorry sweetheart,” Mum apologised.
I was flushed but just shrugged, it wasn’t important.
“Not your fault mum… and I doubt if I’ll see her again anytime soon. Not that I want to see her anyway…”
She put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hug.
“Right, on to Mansion Gardens I think and then perhaps we’ll have time for the beach later this afternoon.”
We got in the car and left. I had to admit that the ruins looked pretty impressive from a distance but I was glad we were leaving. However, Trinny’s words “Still wetting your pants…you always were a little kid” were giving me food for thought.
#
As we drove I was processing a few things.
Like, why did thunder storms affect me so much and so easily, surely this was something only a child would have problems with? This most basic of question which I’d never been able to find an answer to… but there was no denying the soggy effect such meteorological events had on me.
From when I was young and became aware of this climate phenomenon I was always left peeing my pants. My parents of course were very understanding and simply put it down to the event stressing me out in some way. Trinny’s observation that I was ‘still wetting my pants’ meant that I hadn’t hid that fact very well when at school. This was a surprise because in general, I never got any anguish from wearing at school because I rarely wore padding and didn’t think anyone knew. Shows how wrong I was.
There’s no doubt that if thunder was forecast I got quite agitated but mum had read that it might be better for me to confront, rather than hide, from it. Although I’d not been affected for some time, the recent bout of thunder and lightning, especially the tree strike, had had an absurd effect on my mental capacity to control my bladder – day and night.
Another thing running through my head: Had I accepted having to wear nappies too easily?
I argued with myself ‘No’, because wetting the bed and also unwittingly peeing my pants in the office meant protection was sensible. I’m eighteen so I should be sensible.
And then there’d be that other voice chipping in.
‘Yes but you’re eighteen… so shouldn’t be wearing a nappy at all.’
Allowing mum and now my boss to change me… that can’t be right… so why had I consented to the situation without a fight?
And that’s why Trinny’s words had hit home “…you always were a little kid.”
Is that what all this is about – mentally I haven’t progressed from being a scared three year-old terrorised in a tent in France?
Mum, and dad are very loving and the one thing neither Jenny nor I were short of was affection. They praised any of our accomplishments no matter how small and encouraged us in all our juvenile endeavours. When I had first got scared of the storms and wet myself, it wasn’t made to be a big problem. Something easily sorted with a quick wrapping in a nappy.
I accepted it then and I accept it now. They’d done it all my life – if I had a problem when a storm (or any other stressful incident) came then some form of protection was never far away. I’d taken it as a practical solution so that’s why I hadn’t hesitated now. I didn’t see it as babyish. Nappies were a comfort and something I could rely on not to let me down. It’s doing so now, whilst sitting in the car on the way to the garden mum’s so keen to see.
#
The radio was playing when a ‘Golden Oldie’ came on and mum looked at me and enthused.
“This used to be your favourite song when you were little. It always got you up dancing and singing along… even though you didn’t know the words.” She smiled and launched into the chorus trying to encourage me to do the same.
As I wriggled in my padded seat I felt comfortable and I looked over at mum… the truth was being with her was giving me immense pleasure. It took me back to when I was young and often just the two of us would be doing things together… I’d loved it then as I did now.
Here I am, singing to a song that was a childhood favourite, dressed in shorts, a t-shirt and wearing a nappy. So the question has to be asked: Have I grown up at all?
My sister at fourteen has happily moved from childhood to teenage siren, taking care to show off her developing attributes and enjoy the change. Whereas, I come home from work (ah yes very adult), change out of my grown up workwear and straight back into t-shirt and shorts and play computer games that I’ve had since I was ten. I don’t like noisy, gun-toting, battle things I prefer gentle games that build or tease. I am just a big kid… and not that BIG either.
The thing is… apart from my wayward bladder… I like who I am. I mean, even if I’m wet in bed I’m happy because I’m padded and therefore safe and surely that’s a good thing no matter at what age.
That’s the trouble when I start to think… I don’t come up with any answers or solutions to my problems… just more questions.
#
We arrived at Mansion Gardens and again were met by queues of people out enjoying the sunny weather. However, the receptionist had told mum that the gardens were looking spectacular at the moment and it would be a shame to miss them at their best… so we waited.
However, the words of the song I’d been singing along to were still bouncing around in my head, which unfortunately brought Trinny’s words to the fore again only this time as part of that damn song – “You always were a little kid.” Dum di dum di dum…
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that.
Did she mean I always looked like a little kid because I was slightly smaller than other boys?
Did I exude the air of childishness with the way I behaved?
Did she know that I sometimes wore padding to school, or that I occasionally had small accidents in my undies?
Did she know about my fear of thunder and lightning?
Or, was it something else she’d detected that I didn’t know I was doing?
What was it about me that made her say those words – we weren’t friends, she hardly knew me?
That was a lot of pressure to worry about from a girl I didn’t care about as I was never part of her social group.
#
A sensed a slight tremble pass up my body as I couldn’t rid myself of that stupid refrain and before long that unmistakeable warming glow filled my M4. I sighed to myself but didn’t want mum to worry about a change so didn’t mention anything as we eventually paid the entrance fee and slipped into the wonderful gardens. I think it was the third glass of OJ making its presence felt.
In point of fact, apart from the disposable getting a bit stiffer I didn’t feel any dampness and wandered happily with mum as she gushed over the magnificent displays and intoxicating fragrances. Actually, I’ve stolen those last five words from the guide to the gardens mum was referring to as we meandered around.
The expanded disposable wasn’t in the least annoying so maybe it would take another soaking before it needed a change. I was aware of it gripping tightly under my shorts and if I was being honest – it felt really quite nice. Much better than the fabric ones I have to wear at home. I understood mum’s argument about costs but this was more than a treat and would have liked this Abena outing to last for a while longer. Alas, when we go home tomorrow I’ll be back in my usual terry cotton nappy until this current episode of wetting goes away.
That got me thinking. This has happened many times before, and my parents have fixed it with either pull-ups or nappies but usually I get over the nightly soakings and then it’s back to tighty-whities, which I preferred to wear for school and now work. Why had they decided that this time it would be longer? I mean mum had bought quite a supply of new nappies and even left some at work… so why was it different this time?
Had they noticed something about me that I hadn’t? Was I doing things differently?
I thought about asking mum but she was focused on the plant life so probably didn’t want any of my on-going worries at that moment. Besides, despite my distraction, when I did tune back in, mum was explaining about how the gardens came about, the plants from around the world and the ‘Festival of Colour’ they ran every year.
I’m sure she’ll come away inspired to recreate some of this in our back garden and liked the possibility of her running her own ‘Festival of Colour’ with the neighbours.
#
It was late afternoon by the time we got back onto the beach for a few rays. It was still very sunny and warm but the crowds had thinned so we had more space to find the correct place to lay our towels. Mum had decided not to change into her swimsuit so was just wearing what she had for the day but I’d gone back to the room, to get out of my soaked disposable and wriggle into the Speedos. I wasn’t sure if I’d go in the water but wanted to be ready if I decided to.
Mum was looking at her mobile and cheerfully told me that had we set off home we’d have been caught in a ten mile snarl up on the motorway. She was glad that we had this extra day here and could take our time driving home tomorrow… thankfully, without Mrs Symanski who was staying a month with her sister.
It was nice to have so much space so I stretched out as mum rubbed suntan cream into my back.
“I’ve booked us in for a meal at The Plough this evening… that nice girl on reception said they do a very tasty crab ravioli made with locally sourced crab,” she said smoothing in the lotion.
“Mmmm that feels… ermmm… sounds good.” I lazily corrected.
“Ohh there’s that girl you know again. God her boyfriend is a bit of a hunk isn’t he?”
“Mum.” I rebuked.
“I’m only saying. She might be a bitch but he’s quite a catch… she’s…”
“She’s not coming this way is she?” I nervously enquired without raising my head. I didn’t want to be seen.
“No, she’s walking down the beach towards the dunes… I suppose…”she giggled.
“Muuummm, stop it.” But I did rise on one elbow and watched her and boyfriend disappear into the sandy slopes.
We both grinned knowingly. What a terrible pair we were.
#
Whilst I relaxed and drifted off mum phoned home to see how dad and Jenny were coping without us. “Very well” was dad’s verdict and said we should go away more often as the place was a lot more peaceful. I’m sure there were a lot more triviality’s that a husband and wife indulge in but I was in a very nice drowsy state and enjoying the still warm sun spreading its glow across my back.
In that strange half-awake/half-asleep state I suddenly found myself on the dunes with Trinny and her boyfriend. At first they looked at me in disgust because I was only wearing a nappy… a very fluffy, thick nappy the likes of which I’d only ever seen the Fairy Liquid fairy wear.
Their anger at being disturbed quickly changed to one of mock friendliness and I was encouraged to join them. Of course, I thought they were just being friendly so I did. Trinny was stroking my chest and saying what a sweet baby boy I turned out to be, whilst her tough but handsome boyfriend was snuggling the back of my nappy and rubbing himself up against it.
I wanted to speak but she slipped my thumb between my lips and told me to relax they’d take care of baby. There were kisses on my back and neck from her boyfriend and she was gently stroking the front of the thick fluffy nappy.
“Yes our little baby is soooo cute isn’t he?”
It was a rhetorical question as they both continued to paw me. The thing was I quite enjoyed the attention.
“Maybe we should adopt him and keep him nice and safe in his nappy.” She continued saying stuff like this to her boyfriend who was getting excited round the back. I could feel something prodding and pushing past the fabric.
“Mmmmmmm” was the hunks entire contribution to the conversation.
I was dumb but excited as she began to unpin the nappy.
“Let’s get our baby ready shall we… he might be wet and…”
At that moment I could feel my bladder fail and I looked down and embarrassingly saw my fluffy nappy turning yellow. Also at the moment I actually woke up face down to feel mum rubbing in more suntan lotion… and me peeing once again into my Speedos.
“Are you awake Anthony… you’ve been making quite the most disturbing sounds?”
“Um, er, yes just having a strange dream.”
“Well, that explains it. Are you alright your body seems to have flushed a bit red?”
I knew it wasn’t something I could hide but at that moment I didn’t want to reveal I’d wet and orgasmed in my little nylon swimming trunks. If I turned over now mum would see my shame. I could always rush to the sea and plunge in. Yes… that seemed a great idea but thought I’d wait a bit until mum was distracted and then I could saunter down without her being suspicious.
After a few minutes she was back Googling or reading something on her phone so I discreetly got up and wandered down to the water’s edge. It felt colder than last time but I knew I had to submerge myself if I wanted to wash away the damning evidence. I took a deep breath, there were after all several younger kids splashing around not bleating about how cold the water was. Anyway, with a deep breath I plunged under and as the water rushed over me, I rubbed at the front of my Speedos desperate to remove any proof of my dreamy indiscretion.
I stayed submerged for as long as my breath would hold and when I resurfaced the sea didn’t appear as cold as I first thought. I swam around for a bit enjoying the experience and when I did finally decide to return to my pee-soaked towel who should be walking up the beach but the ‘terrible two’ baby-snatchers. For some stupid reason I was angry at them about what had happened in my dream.
As she walked past, they didn’t notice me at all. They were so into each other I doubt that I or anyone else registered in their little sex-filled world. As she passed by I saw that she hadn’t pulled her bikini bottom up correctly and flapping at the back like a beacon was a used condom. I chuckled because others were noticing but I wasn’t going to inform them… I mentally wished them well.
#
Stupidly, when I returned to my towel mum had of course noticed the huge wet stain.
“Were you going to tell me?”
I looked a little ashamed. “It was the dream I was having.”
She put her arm around my shoulder.
“Look love, these accidents are happening more and more and there’s not a thunder storm in sight, maybe it’s time we went to see someone about it… hmmmm?”
I stood shivering, though it wasn’t from the cold, so wrapped the pee-soaked towel around my shoulders. I wondered who we’d be seeing but she didn’t take it any further.
“OK, it’s getting late so, why don’t we go back to the room, you can have a nice long soak in the bath and then we can get ready for our walk to The Plough. Does that sound like a plan?”
I nodded, just glad that she didn’t ask about my dream but I wondered what the sounds were I’d been making that drew her attention in the first place. She was also correct about me wetting more… was it getting worse or was it just that…?
A shiver ran down my spine and not from the cold. Thankfully, I had the towel to hide under as another spurt of pee rushed into my little nylon Speedos. I think mum’s point had been made.
The End of An Old Problem – Chapter Eight.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index
The story originally came from: https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories.html